


Take Two

by soundingsea



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-08-07
Updated: 2004-08-07
Packaged: 2017-10-07 12:38:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/65228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soundingsea/pseuds/soundingsea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scars spoke without asking permission, told her all she needed to know about exactly how fucked up his life had been. He'd tense up when she touched them, like memory had this physicality to it. He'd look at her all intense like there was electricity from her fingers to his skin, like the sparks from a downed power line after a storm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Two

**Author's Note:**

  * For [prettyevilamber](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=prettyevilamber).



> Spoilers: through "Bad Girls", "Salvage". Setting: AU "Bad Girls". Betas: melange &amp; tinpanalley. Written for lovesbitca and darling_effect's Wes/Faith ficathon. The Rape/Non-con warning's for an offscreen past event.

Dancing with the local boys just wasn't the same after B headed out with her vampire honey. But Faith was in luck; she caught a glimpse of their new Watcher doing his own version of hitting the Bronze. He hadn't been quite what Faith expected, what with the bitter and the jaded. And big surprise, he was spending quality time with some nasty old-man booze. What was it with those British guys and that paint-thinner stuff? On an impulse, she decided to shimmy her way over there and give him something better to look at. And hey, why stop with the visual?

After all, he was kinda hot, in an unshaven and leather-clad bad-boy way. Wesley Whatever-his-fancy-name was breathing a little heavy when Faith climbed on his lap, but his eyes stayed cold, arms at his sides, drink gripped tight in one hand.

"Watchers aren't physically intimate with their charges," he said quietly. But he made no attempt to push her off; so much for his feeble attempt at ethics or whatever.

"No, really? Bet they don't go evil or die at the hands of vampires neither, least not in a perfect world." Wrapping her legs around him, Faith wriggled against him, feeling his involuntary response. Yep. Sacred trust, yadda yadda yadda; just another guy. She threw her shoulders back and leaned forward, giving him a fine view down her tank-top, and then peeked to see what effect she'd had.

Wesley stared silently at her long enough for her to feel kinda awkward before he finished his drink and set the glass on the table, saying, "I assure you, we aren't inhabiting one of those."

Huh? Oh, perfect worlds. Right. Okay, life had obviously kicked him in the teeth enough that he wasn't going to push her to talk or share or any of that crap. Good. Faith had better ways to relate to him, anyhow. Sticking her tongue in a guy's mouth was a sure-fire attention-getter.

****

Faith cleared out of Wesley's place before he woke up. No need to stick around for the morning-after scene. She swung by her motel to change and then shook her head with amazement as she headed to the school library. Never would have believed she'd be hanging out at a high school voluntarily; crazy, but okay, maybe she did want to see him. On her own terms. Yeah.

So Wesley and Giles were having a heart-to-heart about some council fieldwork he'd been doing in LA. Special ops, blah blah; sounded a long way from the bookish stuff Faith's previous Watchers had been big on. When Giles disappeared into the stacks to look up something about dueling demon cults, Wes started flipping through some "Arkham's Dimensional Rifts and Something" book. But he was quick to stick it under the histories when Giles returned with a stack of musty boringness. You'd think New Guy'd want Giles to know he was down with all that Watcher jazz. Weird.

****

Despite being the council's official one-and-only for the Chosen Two, Wes was all about sharing the joy. He let Giles stay in the loop and said he could keep training Slayer Numero Uno, which was fine with Faith. She'd just as soon keep Wes to herself. Anyhow, his training methods would make B blush. Hell, they made Faith all flushed, tender skin reddened, her cries silenced by one of his hands as the other curled inside her. Hands, mouth, cock -- he knew what he was doing and just how it would affect her. Wicked cool.

****

After the first week, she was pretty sure Giles had the 411 on Wes and her. But he wasn't saying anything, not to her, anyhow; maybe he was getting down on Wes in some sort of stuffy British way, about "propriety" or whatever. Like Giles didn't notice B in those skirts she wore slaying. Hell, even Faith noticed those. Not like she was into chicks (much), but damn.

Course, she could scratch that itch plenty with Wes. And after, when he was exhausted, Faith traced her fingertips over his scars: a nasty raised red line on his throat, thin white spiderwebbing all over like he'd had a close personal relationship with something sharp, and what could only be an old bullet wound in his gut.

Scars spoke without asking permission, told her all she needed to know about exactly how fucked up his life had been. He'd tense up when she touched them, like memory had this physicality to it. He'd look at her all intense like there was electricity from her fingers to his skin, like the sparks from a downed power line after a storm.

They had this silent intimacy for a couple of weeks there. Didn't talk much at all, though she got the feeling he knew way more than he was saying. Fair enough; he didn't ask her why she had to be on top. The memory of cloven feet and sour breath, of a lumpish body crushing hers, was enough to take her out of any sort of moment, and the hell was she telling Wes about that. But Wes looked at her like he could see right through her, really got her, and liked her all the same, the way nobody ever had before.

Team Slayer kept fighting the good fight and working to stop all the evil turning up at City Hall (and that surprised exactly no one; come on), and meanwhile Faith was all floaty and shit. Like when Wes held her or looked at her it was like she was really, truly important. Her as her, not her as backup plan or good enough. Unreal that she could matter like that.

****

Course, City Hall had to get in the way. How was Faith supposed to know that guy in a suit was one of the mayor's lackeys and not the freshly risen? When she was in full-on slay mode, nothing better get in the way. Or else. Or else. Shit.

After, she ended up at Wes' apartment. Not like she was gonna talk to him about it, but it was just where she went at night now. Better than that shitty motel, and if she was a little teary maybe it was just cause he seemed to understand without her even needing to say anything. But all good things come to an end, right? And they sure as hell did that night. Gasping under her, thrusting and panting, he murmured softly, "Lilah."

That pissed Faith off royally. "Who the fuck is Lilah? Some council bitch? Like that fake watcher chick?" She disentangled herself and climbed off the bed.

Wes sat up, looked at her like he cared. Yeah. Right. "The only commonality with which you need concern yourself between Lilah and the late, unlamented Ms. Post is that they're both dead."

Pompous ass. Like she needed to stick around for this. Faith grabbed her jeans, slung them over her hips without buckling the belt, and pulled on her tank-top.

Bastard got all serious-like, lecture mode on. "Faith--wait. You need to know--"

"Don't bother, Watcher-guy. I don't need to be an understudy for the part of your girl." She pulled on her shit-kickers. "Just like real life, huh? Slayer-in-waiting? Fuck that."

She flounced out the door. None of that turn, pause, give him a chance to make it better bullshit like in sappy movies. This wasn't the only team in town, and she knew where she wouldn't be seen as second-best.

**Author's Note:**

> Challenge: AU BtVS with Wes showing up in Sunnydale as AtS 4 Wes; angst; not fairytale-happy

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Independent 11 - Mortal Coil](https://archiveofourown.org/works/383403) by [Aadler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aadler/pseuds/Aadler)




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